Tag Archives: humor

My Advice To My Past Self

Earlier this week I saw a post from SickChristine that was inspired by a Soul Pancake  Facebook post.

Christine wrote a beautiful and touching story of the advice she would give her past self at different ages. Beautiful and touching? Yeah, that’s not exactly my style. Younger me was a moron and he definitely needed my advice. So, here’s what I would tell myself if I could travel back in time to help younger me:

Dear 1970’s PhilDude, relax. You’re a kid. Don’t stress about anything. Especially not the air raid drills they make you do in grade school. The Russians are definitely not going to bomb you.  At least not until Trump is President. Just be careful around water fountains. Not the big kind that you see in a park, but the little ones you drink out of in the hallway at school. There’s one that will change your life forever. That one fountain is the Joker to your Batman.  Also, enjoy and remember your adventures with The Golden Boys. You’ll want to write about them in the future.

Dear 1980’s Phil: To borrow from Baz Luhrman, wear sunscreen. You get sunburned from the refrigerator light! Wear sunscreen. I want to have skin like a baby’s bottom when I/Me/You are older. Also go ahead and grow the mullet, but cut it off in 1988. You kept it a year too long. Also, enjoy and remember your adventures with The Golden Boys. You’ll want to write about them in the future.

Dear 1990’s Phil: Apple. Not the fruit. Well, yes, the fruit. Eat them, they’re better than all that fast food you eat.  But remember Apple the company. Save all your money and invest in a company named Apple in 1999. If you do this you can retire from work in 2015. Don’t mind the hyperlinked blue text there. You can’t read that yet. Also, enjoy and remember your adventures with The Golden Boys. You’ll want to write about them in the future. And yes, you get the most important decision of your life right.

Dear 2000’s PhilYou’ll be raising your kids now. I’ve got no advice for you. Nothing can prepare you for parenting. Just relax and enjoy. You can’t control everything. In fact I should have told you that about two decades ago. Also embrace fantasy football. Not only will you be really good at it, but if you play your cards right, you can make a living at it. Enjoy and remember your adventures with The Golden Boys. Yes, they’ll still be with you. Maybe write a few books about them.  And don’t stress about the number of views your blog gets. The right people will get the jokes. No, seriously, I was not kidding about the fantasy football.

All in all, don’t worry about much I said here. Life’s never going to be perfect. Live your life and enjoy it without too much worry. And lastly, wear sunscreen.

Have a great Saturday everybody! ~Phil

Goats Do Yoga? More like Goats Gone Wild!

A lot of people ask me, “Phil, where do you get your crazy ideas for #ThePhilFactor?” Sometimes it’s the news, sometimes it’s my experiences that week, and other times forces from beyond that we don’t understand speak to me. That was the case this week when last night my friend brought out the bottle of wine pictured above. I thought to myself, “Gosh that’s true. Goats do roam, but I wonder if they do yoga?” And then the clouds parted and a golden ray of sunshine beamed down upon my weary brow and the universe said, in a voice much like James Earl Jones, “Yes Phil, goats do yoga.” Some people are disturbed when the universe speaks to them, but I’m getting used to it. It’s a little tiresome though when the universe gets drunk and tells the same stories over and over. It is also a little alarming how often the universe is drunk. I think the universe was drunk when it came up with goat yoga. Watch the video:

And it’s not just this one farm in Oregon! Go to Youtube! It’s happening everywhere. I think it’s great, but what if the goats start acting like … well, goats? What if they poop on people or chew their clothes? The people’s clothes, not the goats. Although, I wonder, how close are we to seeing goats in yoga pants?

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See that? I’m pretty sure having goats hard, pointy feet in my back is going to hurt. If I’m doing yoga with animals, baby goats might make my top ten list, but they’re not #1. Why not puppies, kittens, or baby teacup pigs?

Now that goat yoga is popular, I can imagine this trend taking off with people trying yoga with all kinds of animals. Unfortunately there will probably be some Darwinism thinning of the herd, so to speak, when some of the dumber people try yoga with the wrong animals. Or just animals who decide they don’t want to do any fecking yoga. In my mind right now I’m picturing a yoga class gone awry as the animals attack and people are screaming and trying to flee. That’s definitely not going to be a very zen feeling.

Namaste everybody. Have a great goat filled weekend! ~Phil

TBT! Monk See, Monk Do

(05/29/2009) So I went to a blood lab to have my blood drawn to see if I’ve finally gotten my cholesterol level lower than my S.A.T. score. I dutifully handed the receptionist my paperwork and proceeded to the empty seat nearest the least objectionable looking person in the waiting room. The little, old lady sitting next to me knitting didn’t look like she’d be any trouble, although I swear she glanced approvingly at my ass as I sat down next to her. Just as long as she didn’t jab me with a knitting needle we’d get along fine for the next 15 minutes. And although she had a weapon, I was pretty sure I could take her in the battle for the shared arm rest.

The waiting room is nearly full and I think to myself, “This is going to be a bit of a wait.” I begin to scan the room looking for a good magazine or newspaper left behind. As my eyes roam, scanning the coat closet, the end tables, and the empty seats, I spot something a lot more interesting. Tibetan monks! I had to rub my eyes, refocus and look again to be certain I was seeing what my brain had just told me was there. Sitting across from me, swaddled in orange off-the-shoulder robes and sandals were two Tibetan monks. What?!!? I don’t exactly live in an international metropolis. I live in an average American suburb in upstate New York. Upstate. Not New York City. I’d have to drive 5 hours to get to New York City. There just are not Tibetan monks wandering around my neck of the woods very often.

The monks and I regarded each other warily. There was two of them and one of me. They didn’t appear to be armed, but with those loose robes it was impossible to tell what they might be concealing. I gave them a nod and a slight flex of my biceps as I folded my arms across my chest. If there was going to be any trouble I wanted them to know exactly what they were up against. As the phlebotomist called their names in turn, the monks each went back and returned a few minutes later with a small bandage on the inside of one arm. I was still in my seat, arms folded, maintaining my gaze. By now, I was sure that these two knew just who the alpha-dog in this waiting room was. They spoke to each other in hushed tones as they exited the waiting room. I don’t know Chinese, but I think I heard the words “Phil Factor” just before the door shut behind them. I breathed a sigh of relief as it appeared that the confrontation was over and I thought to myself, “I hope those two morons realize that after Labor Day, the sandals and off-the-shoulder look is completely out of season.”

Have a great Thursday! ~Phil

Top Ten Tuesday! Ten Reasons Dogs Are Better Than Cats

10. Dogs always warn you when there’s a house fire.

9. According to Cruella Deville, they make excellent coats.

8. Dogs are too stupid to lie.

8. The Grinch had a dog. (Who knows his name?)

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7. Dogs often solve mysteries (see Doo, Scooby)

6. Dogs are capable of making noises you can hear more than three feet away.

5. When Timmy falls down a well dogs will always tell you.  Remember Baby Jessica? Yup, dog told them where she was.  (I hope she reads this. Hi Jessica!)

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4. Brian Griffin (R.I.P.) fom Family Guy, funniest cartoon character ever, is a dog.

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3. Dogs always act like whatever you’re saying is really interesting. Cats won’t even feign a little interest.

2. Dogs will always clean up food you drop on the floor. In fact, my dog is officially my housekeeper.

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1. If my dog hadn’t followed me up to my writing room, like she does every night, I would still be trying to figure out my Top Ten list for today.

If you have any more reasons why dogs are better than cats feel free to share in the comments. Cat people, you get your day next week. Have a great Tuesday! ~Phil

You Were Wrong, Yes, YOU

Yes, you. You were  wrong yesterday. No, not the whole day. Just a tiny part of it. What part? The part where you voted on my Friday poll. If you didn’t, go ahead, scroll back, look at the poll, and feel free to vote or just think about what your answer would be. I’ll wait.

OK, done? Yes, you were wrong too. Yes, I said I would write about whichever subject got the most votes, but what I didn’t tell you was that you’re not the boss of me, and it’s my blog and I’ll write about whatever I want. I didn’t tell you that because I never imagined that so many would be so wrong. If I listened to all of you I’d have to write about the ridiculous, cartoonish, buffoonish, wanna be dictator who is currently employed at the White House.

In my poll results he was far and away the winner of who is having the worst year as far as public relations go. But that was just a poll, and you were wrong. Did I mention that? Your wrongness was astoundingly bad. As bad as Donald Trumps wrongness on nearly a daily basis. You were ‘navigator on the Titanic’ wrong. So, if you were wrong, as I’ve so eloquently established here, that begs the question, who is the right answer, Phil, or United Airlines? (And yes, I said Phil. It’s my blog and I’ll speak of myself in the third person if I want to. Phil doesn’t care what you think!)

Look, I’m sorry that you were wrong. Don’t worry, we all are sometimes. It’s just that most of the time some jackass with a blog doesn’t point it out to you in front of millions of readers. Just sip your coffee or tea and relax. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last. Rest secure in the knowledge that the next time that you’re this wrong, I probably won’t be there to point it out to you. Life will punish you.

Although one intrepid voter did give me credit for having the worst 2017 so far, I contend that United Airlines has had a worse year than Donald Trump or I. Why, you ask? I know that we’re all familiar with the scene depicted in the picture above of a passenger being forcefully dragged off of a plane because United wanted to fly their own employees somewhere. But, were you aware of all the other stupid things United Airlines has done this year? You’re not? Let me count the ways!

Another Scorpion reported on United Flight: This one came in just yesterday. Look, it’s ok if it happens once. Occasionally the stray, venomous, killer creature will slip onto a flight, (Donald Trump gets on Air Force One almost every day!) but notice the title says Another Scorpion! It’s happened already this year. United Airlines has a scorpion problem like Florida has an alligator problem.

United Airlines Forced Woman To Pee In a CupApparently on a flight earlier this week a woman had to pee really bad. We can all empathize with this, right? Whether it’s on a flight, in a work meeting, or in your car on a road trip, we’ve all had to go to the point where we worry we’re going to ruin a good pair of pants if we don’t find relief soon. Apparently this woman wasn’t allowed to go to the bathroom because the United flight attendants had the cart in the aisle to serve drinks . So, because they refused to let her go, she peed in a cup, then was reprimanded by the same flight attendants.

United Airlines Stopped Girls In Yoga Pants From Boarding FlightYes United Airlines, I know it’s your policy that anyone flying with a free ticket provided to them by a United Airlines employee has to adhere to the United Airlines dress code, but that is just stupid. Not allowing women on flights in yoga pants eliminates roughly half of all travelers. Also, 100% of men are in support of women in yoga pants. You’ve now made women and men mad and I’m pretty sure that most of your passengers are women or men. Also, yoga pants can be gender neutral and anyone can wear them. They make my ass look amazing.

So to summarize, United Airlines has scorpions, is opposed to yoga pants, but wants their passengers to pee their pants, and will occasionally brutalize passengers when their employees need a seat. That’s been their year. If I’m a competing airline, I’d be busy creating ads with people in yoga pants getting up and going to the bathroom on scorpion-free flights. Ok, this is enough words for one day. Yes, you were wrong, but now you’re an informed, and smarter reader. Oh, and please hit the Facebook share button below so that this eventually gets back to United Airlines. I’d love to write about them suing me. Have a great Saturday! ~Phil

Friday Poll! United Airlines vs. Donald Trump

It occurred to me that both United Airlines and Donald Trump are taking a beating in their popularity ratings so far this year. But who has had it worse when it comes to public opinion? Your vote will decide what I make fun of tomorrow.

Have a great Friday! ~Phil

TBT! My Green Heaven

This is a funny coincidental post because when I posted this 11 years ago I had moved 6 months earlier, and now, synchronicity, I’m about 6 months out from having moved again.

(5/31/06) Some of my long time blogging friends may remember that I moved about 6 months ago. I live in a nice suburban neighborhood with identical houses and identical yards as far as the eye can see. The electric and phone lines are buried underground so as not to spoil the picturesque view with ugly poles and wires. Every morning when it’s quiet and the streets are empty I look out my window to see the sun rise over “my” neighborhood. As I take in this view I feel like the king of suburbia. It’s perfect. A little too perfect. In the evening couples walk their dogs and greet each other cheerily. Joggers and roller bladers cruise the streets looking healthy and wholesome. Kids play street hockey and skateboard. If a Hollywood director wanted to cast a neighborhood to play the picture-perfect, average American neighborhood, my neighborhood would be a shoo-in for the part. There’s just one problem. Everyone else’s lawn.

As far as I can tell, every other homeowner in my neighborhood is psychotic about their lawn care. I have no idea how anyone with a full-time job can devote as much time to landscaping and grooming their lawns as the people do. The thing is, I don’t even see them doing it. It’s like they’ve got Edward Scissorhands living in their homes and he only comes out at night. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no slacker. I mow my lawn often enough that if I parked my car in the yard I could still find it the next day. I once owned a pool table whose surface wasn’t as smooth as these people’s yards. And it’s not just the grass. It’s the little scenic settings they create. Little benches in a tiny grove of trees in the corner of the yard. A rustic wheelbarrow with flowers growing out of it just so. Not a tree or bush is without perfect little border blocks surrounding it. It’s like I’m living in The Stepford Neighborhood. Talk about peer pressure! I’m afraid that if I skip mowing my lawn one week they’ll form a lynch mob and storm my suburban castle with torches and pitchforks, being careful not to step on any landscaping on the way over. I refuse to cave into this peer pressure to meet their insane standards of lawn care. I do have a plan though. You knew I would didn’t you?

I’m going to buy lawn fertilizer. Lots of it. No, not for my yard you idiot! For theirs! At night while my neighbors sleep, exhausted from another day of landscaping, I’ll be out there fertilizing their lawns, causing them to grow at an astronomical rate. Their lawns will be like those Play-Doh people where you can see the hair growing right out their heads. There will be no way they can keep up! And I’ll be planting weeds everywhere, even if I have to pollinate them myself. I’ll have the best yard in the neighborhood within a week! (pause for maniacal laughter) This should work perfectly, unless Edward Scissorhands catches me.

Have a great Thursday! ~Phil